


The Long Road

by electricshoebox



Series: Unbound [2]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Awkward Romance Advice, Friendship, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricshoebox/pseuds/electricshoebox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a moment during Aveline’s quest to date Donnic where she asks Hawke, “What about you and Fenris? How do you deal with the danger of your lives?” Hawke looks away sadly and says, “Maybe we’re not the best example.” Aveline can’t quite forget the look on Hawke’s face, and later that night at the Hanged Man, after Donnic leaves, she decides to make sure he’s all right. Of course, romantic advice isn’t exactly her strength. A suitably awkward conversation ensues while Hawke drowns his sorrows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Road

**Author's Note:**

> Another bit for Daniel Hawke. Chronologically, takes place before "Unbound." Basically an excuse to write Hawke and Aveline as bros. Bros in failed romance. And in general. I like their friendship.

Hawke dropped heavily back onto the stained wooden bench he’d been warming all night. At least three pints of the Hanged Man’s rancid ale churned in his belly, and that still hadn’t been enough to chase away the awkwardness of three hours pinning Donnic to the other end of the table. Varric and Fenris wandered in somewhere near the end of the second hour, which at least resurrected the conversation, but did nothing for the sickness in Hawke’s stomach. He hunched over the fourth pint now sitting in front of him and stared at it.

Helping Aveline rekindle her love life only made Hawke more painfully aware of the void in his own. It seemed a few weeks’ time had not been nearly enough to stop the awful twist in his gut every time he saw Fenris. At least pushing a smile onto his lips and keeping to “lovely weather we’re having” wasn’t making him feel like his heart was imploding on itself anymore. Now it was just making him sick with leftover hope and more than a little despair. He curled his hand around the mug of ale and squeezed.

“Hawke?” 

His eyes shot up, and he found Aveline still hovering near the chair Donnic vacated not fifteen minutes before. He blinked at her, trying to find the energy to hide his rapidly sinking mood. “Did we forget anything?” 

“No… I… I wanted to ask you something.” Aveline hesitated a moment longer before pulling the chair out for herself. She narrowed her eyes slightly, appraising, as she stared across the table at him. 

Hawke tried to smile. “Well? Go on then.” 

“You really look terrible,” Aveline remarked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“That wasn’t a question.”

Aveline sighed. “No. I… earlier today… I got the impression… that is, I think I stepped in it a bit and I wanted to see if you were all right.” 

“I think you stepped in it quite a lot, actually,” Hawke gave her a lopsided smirk, unable to resist. “I mean really, Aveline. A _dowry tradition_?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Aveline snapped, and even in the growing haze of drunkenness, Hawke could clearly see the color rushing to her cheeks. He chuckled and took a sip of his ale. He regretted it immediately, his face scrunching at the taste. How had he made it through so many pints of this?

“Hawke,” Aveline tried again, frowning, “Is everything all right with you and Fenris?”

Hawke forced the ale down with a heavy gulp. “Wonderful. It’s… just wonderful. Apart from the fact that there… isn’t a ‘me and Fenris.’”

“What? Really?” Aveline said, sitting up straighter. “I thought…”

Hawke let out a heavy sigh. “I did too. Things were… going well. And I don’t think it’s because… I mean it’s… agh, fuck. It’s complicated.” 

“I’m sorry, Daniel,” said Aveline, and Hawke barely suppressed a wince. The only other time Aveline had ever used his first name was when Carver had left for the templars. Hawke hadn’t been half as far-gone and drunk then as he was now. 

Pity. He was being _pitied_. By the single worst romantic he had ever seen in his life. 

Brilliant. 

He forced another gulp of ale down. “What can I do? I guess he’s changed his mind. I can’t begin to pretend I understand why—no, wait, that isn’t true.” 

Hawke glared at his drink. If Fenris ever found Danarius, Hawke was going to be hard-pressed not to try to kill him first. Maybe he’d take up blood magic just for the chance to resurrect the bastard and kill him twice. 

Hawke didn’t realize he’d let the silence stretch until Aveline cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to pry, Hawke, I just… the look on your face, I felt terrible. I’m so sorry.” 

“You didn’t know,” Hawke said, pressing his fingers to his eyes. “I’m a right mess, Aveline, I’m sorry. I’m awful company right now.” 

“I understand, really. If you… wanted to talk more…” 

“There isn’t much to say. Things were great, we were really getting close, and we had one… _fantastic_ night together, but then he said it…” Hawke faltered. Liquor always loosened his tongue (as if it needed the help) and he was rambling. Far more than he’d meant to. The last thing he wanted to do was broadcast Fenris’s hurts because he was too drunkenly stupid to think twice. “Well, he’s just… got too much to deal with, and I guess he’s not… really ready to be with me. Or doesn’t want to after all. Or something. This is _pathetic_.” He slowly lifted his head. “And the worst part is, I’m still utterly besotted.”

“Oh Hawke,” Aveline shook her head.

“Aveline, I…” he bit his lip, “Maker, I think I really love him.” 

Aveline gave him the most sympathetic look she could muster. “Daniel…” 

Twice in one night. This really was hopeless. 

“I… really can’t pretend I understand that,” she said, “he’s… well, he’s _Fenris_. He’s bitter and gruff and probably unstable.”

“Aren’t we all?” 

Aveline managed a half-hearted smirk, then dropped her gaze as she continued, “And I’m… probably the last person in Thedas you’d want romance advice from.” 

Hawke snorted, staring miserably into his drink. 

“But…” she started, then huffed out a short laugh. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this. But if you really think there’s a chance, if you really think he’s worth it…” 

She hesitated, her eyes moving over the table as if she could pluck the right words from the wood grain. Hawke had raised his head, though, watching her intently. At last, she said, “Fenris isn’t… the sort of person that does things flippantly. And honestly, I don’t think any of us have missed the way he looks at you. So if he really felt something for you, I don’t think it’s just disappeared. There’s obviously a lot shifting around under the surface with him, and I can’t begin to imagine what he’s been through. So maybe… he just needs time.”

Hawke nodded vaguely. “Time…”

“Of course, it may be… a lot of time. Or I may be completely wrong. Pining after him isn’t doing you any favors, Hawke,” she raised an eyebrow, gesturing at him, “But I… would be a hypocrite to tell you not to hope.” 

Hawke looked at her, his gaze unfocused. After a moment, he nodded slowly, pursing his lips. Hope. Right. That he had in spades. He just wasn’t sure it wouldn’t kill him in the mean time. 

“So no more of this, all right? You’re no use to anyone drowning in ale, least of all yourself,” Aveline said, shaking him from his thoughts. She rose to her feet, sliding around the table to clap Hawke on the back. He let out a surprised grunt at the force, stiffening. Aveline reached for the half-empty glass and slid it out of Hawke’s reach. 

He sighed, looking up at the redhead. “Thanks, Aveline. Really. You’re better at this than you seem.” 

“I’ll try to take that as a compliment. And Maker knows I owe you after today, anyway. Just… remember that you might have to accept that he really doesn’t want to be with you.” 

“…And then you had to go and ruin it,” Hawke grumbled. 

Aveline pat his back again. “Just trying to keep you honest, Hawke. Go home and go to bed.” 

“Yes, ser,” Hawke drunkenly saluted her. He pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. “I do mean it, though, thank you.” 

She smiled. “We’ve been through a lot together, Hawke. We’ve faced down smugglers and slavers and abominations, and Maker knows what other things you’ll drag me through before the end. I think the two of us can handle puzzling out love.” 

“You think so, huh?” 

“Can’t possibly get worse than it is now.” 

Hawke laughed. “Never say never, Aveline.”


End file.
